Flint, Kenneth S

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proved that, even to them. With all our powers we were nearly
defeated."
"We had to come back to Eire," Findgoll insisted. "It was our dream.
For all of those years in the Four Cities, it was our only dream."
"The dream of the Sons of Nemed, you mean. I had no memories of this
land. My only home was with Danu's people. They've offered us a place
with them, and we should have accepted it. We should go back and accept
it now!"
"If we return to the Four Cities, we'll never have a place or a life
that is our own," the old druid argued doggedly.
"And have we those now? Do you really believe we'll have them? Our
freedom and possessions have been stripped from us, our teachers and
artists accused of rebellion and exiled or killed, until we are denied
even the chance to think for ourselves."
The physician had finished with Taillta and had crossed the liss to
stand nearby, listening to this. He was an older man, but large and
quite hardy-looking. His face was large featured and craggy, with thick
eyebrows bushing out above sharp blue eyes. Grey hair covered the high-
domed head in tight waves. Lugh had found him to be a brusque,
impatient man, and it was clear from the way he glared at Bobd Derg
that he wasn't pleased with what the bard was saying.
"You are too quick to give up," he scolded in a deep voice, stepping
forward. "Many of the young de Dananns have the will to fight. Your own
brother is one of them."
"The fire of their youth still keeps rebellion alive," the bard
answered. "It will burn out too."
"Not if they can be brought together," Diancecht said with force. "Not
if they can be led to fight."
"Do you still argue that?" Bobd Derg said with impatience. "Bres will
never lead them. He's convinced that placating the
i
160
THE RIDERS OF THE SIDHE
THE SILVER HAND
161
Fomor is our only chance. He's ordered the de Dananns to lie down and
we have. So long as he is king, we'll stay down."
At this mention of Bres, Lugh opened his mouth to speak, but Aine laid
a hand upon his arm. When he looked at her he saw her mouth a single
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word: "Quiet!" He held his tongue, not understanding why.
"That can be changed," Diancecht told Bobd pointedly. "You know there
is a way."
"I know what you believe. But it would do us no good anymore. And it
would be madness to try. Dangerous madness!"
These words stung the old healer. He pulled himself stiffly erect, his
expression growing hard. In formal tones, he addressed himself to the
visitors.
"Your friend will recover completely. But it will take time and much
rest. She'll sleep for some while, and she'll be weak for many days.
Don't disturb her. I'll come back to see her tomorrow. Good night!"
And with that he shot Bobd Derg a final angry look and stalked from the
liss.
A faint, weary smile touched the bard's lips.
"Poor Diancecht. Another of the Old Ones, still clinging to the dream."
"I'm one of them too, if you'll recall," Findgoll said sharply, a bit
offended himself. "I can't so easily give up our land either. I want to
believe we can still challenge the Fomor."
"Findgoll, be realistic," the bard reasoned. "What would we gain? If
Bres did decide to lead us in rebellion, if we could gather enough
strength to defeat the Fomor garrisons, we'd only face those from the
island again. The tales of that first defeat brought nightmares to
every de Danann child. Even the hardened champions like my father fear
the powers dwelling in that tower."
"Tower?" Lugh repeated excitedly. "A tower of glass?"
Bobd Derg turned a curious gaze on the lad.
"Why, yes. Do you know of it?"
From the corner of his eye, Lugh glimpsed Aine's warning look. Again he
held back the truth he wanted to blurt out, replacing it with a vague
reply.
"Oh, it's just a story we heard in our travels. Something to do with a
tower like a great crystal, and magical black ships, and warriors
dressed all alike in grey."
"It's much more than a story," Bobd Derg said grimly. "It's
all very real. It was those warriors and the powers of that tower
which destroyed the fleet of the Sons of Nemed long
ago. "They are leagued with the Fomor then?" Lugh asked,
unable to completely hide the intense interest in his voice. "No, lad.
Not leagued with them. The Fomor power has its very heart and mind in
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that tower. The warriors who dwell there are the true Fomor
themselves!"
LUGH'S DILEMMA
"FOMOR? HOW COULD that be?" asked the wondering Lugh. In his desire to
know he ignored Aine's warning. "They look like normal men. They're
different from those in Eire in dress, in the way they live..."
"It's true, nonetheless," Bobd Derg assured him. He smiled, clearly
amused by the lad's enthusiasm. "There is a very ancient tale
explaining how that came to be. I managed to acquire it from the Fomor
warriors in my quest for stories. It's vague and filled with things not [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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